Is it worth what it cost you?

Did you ever regain what it lost you?
Do you still carry that lack inside?
Do you still lie?

-M.Madden “Keloid”

I close my eyes I see static and fire……

All the arms that I have ever run to have betrayed Me.
Every fucking one…….
So I stopped running,
I was not getting anywhere I needed to be or wanted to go…..
And
I stopped wanting to be solved
I stopped caring
and
I
started fighting…….

I have theses dreams and I wake up sweating, fighting, defending myself. They don’t even qualify as dreams. I don’t know what the hell they are, but they would kill Me if they got half the chance. There are very few people that I would wish this affliction upon.[ Just a couple of deserving motherfuckers….] If I don’t talk it is because I don’t have the words to trancribe,to describe the flame covered vistas that I see even in my waking hours.

If I could tear my broken eyes out to make it stop at my lowest I truly believe that I would. Hell, it only takes 7 pounds of pressure to tear off a human ear…couple of eyeballs couldn’t be that hard. Right? My social graces are sorely lacking at this point in my life and if I said that I could bring myself to care I would be a liar.

I saw you there. You came and I need not tell you. You just know…I don’t have to walk you through the bullshit.Your radar works just fine. For you and for this I am grateful as I am to tired to baby-sit without getting paid for it. You will never know how necessary you are. No matter what the outside world wants you to believe. You are vital and together?……. Legion.

Sleep has been a rare and fleeting commodiity since Friday night. I woke up after 3 hours again. Wrapped around my baseball bat cursing all the stupid bovine fucks who can go into the long night and stay easy….

At least it lets me know that I am alive. Or just living…that changes from day to day…who can say huh? That is one way to look at it. I had a dream. Regretting punches that I did not throw. I looked down and there was half a bottle imbedded in my sternum. Neck sticking out. Pulsing with every beat of my black heart..The band was looking at me with unbiased disgust and I was screaming at them “Keep playing You Cunts!!!!” Cause all I knew was that if I pulled it out that it would really start to bleed and it would kill me and then my enemy….. ? The foe that had done this to me would win. All I could think was that I had to die in the field.

That would be my place.

That I had to win.Do I see it all like that? Yes. Can it torment a person?. On a bad day if you want to let it? Yes. Just another form of self abuse. Are you going to live under it or kill it? If you don’t kill it will kill you. It is that fucking simple and you can deal with it how ever the hell you want.

Subtle enemies. Small growths. Insidious cancers that come in the form of allies….

Do I trust anyone? No. Not even myself.

Most people wait to talk. I listen. I eavesdrop. I hear the way that they complain. About injustice. Lies dealt to them like an unlucky hand. it is one of the few times that you will see me smile. It is the easiest thing to fix yet……Ahhhhh, That’s right! They don’t want it gone? Noooooo! What would they have to complain about at the pub on a Friday nite while pissing their wages away for another week if they got off they fat corporate cocksucking asses and Fixed it ?

See me as a walking hate manifesto if you must .It will kill me before it even touches you so don’t sweat it. Just think about it….

A Sikfuk wrote me that she wants me to “Be Happy”. It was sweet, I mean that, but if I wanted that I would not be doing what I am doing. I would not be what I am. Happy? Happy to me is a lobotomy and I Prefer to garner my scars in more interesting fashions.

Happy is a band-aid on a bullet wound. It is a placebo to keep people in line. To keep them stupid and moving forward in an orderly fashion. There is no pot of gold. Do it now.

Thank you for your numbers and your belief. I cant see you but I feel you in waves. I know for damn sure that it is the only thing that is worth a fuck in my life. The pure thing….Bigger than Me. I like that. I like it a real lot.

Its the next day when your hurts hurt. I am covered in cuts and bruises. At least I am feeling something even if it is total anilitation and exhaustion. Mine. This is the cartology that matters to me. You are born with your skin. The roads? The rivers and marks? Well, They are up to you. You are a map of where you have been and every scar is another day, another gig ,another night, A battle won or lost. I want to die marked with the map of my personal experience. I could almost be proud of that…if I let myself.

But I wont. I don’t have time to stop.

I am numb away from pain and sound. Each of us is a tribe of one. None of us have any answers for each other but when I am crammed in there with ya’ll I get a little clarity, a little piece of mind.

And goddamn it but that will keep me low to the ground till next we all meet.Watch your back and stay true.
SF4L
Michele.